


Free to Love

by Chick4Chick2



Series: The Outlaw Sandor the Hound [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chick4Chick2/pseuds/Chick4Chick2
Summary: The Outlaw Sandor the Hound has been captured in High Heart and the woman who loves him hears he's been hung.





	Free to Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/gifts).



> Here you go, Chic! The conclusion of your Outlaw Saga! 
> 
>  
> 
> For any other folks reading this, these works are just gifts for my bestie. Hope you'll enjoy though!
> 
>  
> 
> Settings borrowed from another author's work with permission.

 

“Rise and shine, Clegane. Get up.”

Sandor sat up slowly on the pallet he’d been sleeping on the past two weeks in High Heart’s jail. Sheriff Snow had said Marshal Dondarrion’s party would be coming to get him. That they was coming to hang him went unsaid.

He’d been on the run for so long though it was almost a relief to get caught in a way. At least he’d been able to catch up on his sleep and eat regular after spending most of the winter on the run and laying in caves or ditches as the terrain allowed.

Hell, he’d eaten better the past two weeks than he had in two years. Sheriff Snow’s lovely, red-haired wife had made up some fried chicken and cornbread the other day and brought it in for her husband as a surprise. Most women like her would’ve taken one look at Sandor’s scarred face and fainted. But the sheriff’s wife wasn’t most women. She’d told her husband there was plenty and fixed a plate for Sandor, too.

Sandor had chuckled to himself to see the sour look on the sheriff’s face as the Hound had eaten up his chicken and cornbread with relish. He’d washed it down with some buttermilk and not even complained that it weren’t whiskey. But when he’d seen the two of them whispering, their heads pressed close together, and Mrs. Snow rubbing at her belly meaningfully before the sheriff lifted her into his arms and kissed her boldly, he’d stopped chuckling.

He would’ve liked to have that as well and not just with any old gal. There was a pretty and spirited saloon girl over in Tumblestone that had captured his heart last year.

But Sandor Clegane wasn’t free to love nobody. He was wanted man. Or at least, he had been. And now, his song was almost done.

“Time to hang me then?” he asked grimly, wiping the sweat off his brow and neck with a grubby handkerchief. “Let’s get on with it then.”

For April, it was hot. It was stuffy in the little jail and boring as all get-out.

Sheriff Snow was unlocking the cell door. He didn’t have that cunt Bronn with him for a change. For a big man, Sandor could move pretty quick. Sheriff Snow was several inches shorts and several pounds lighter, he’d guess. But he had his Colts on his hips and he was rumored to be swift and deadly with them. He’d been a hired gun before he’d settled down and become a sheriff after all.

“We ain’t hanging you, Clegane. Dondarrion and his men captured a gang calling themselves the Brave Companions while you’ve been here enjoying my hospitality. They confessed to the robbery and murders he’s been hunting you for. They raped them girls over in Saltpans, too.”

“So, you’re saying…I’m free?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not exactly lily-white…”

“I know you’ve probably done plenty wrong. You ain’t alone in that,” the sheriff said thoughtfully. “But you didn’t murder them folks in no bank robbery and you didn’t commit them rapes. You and your boys have got up to some trouble…but not enough for me to see you hang. You’re free to go. But, I’d suggest you clear out of these parts. Some folks might not see it the way I do.”

Sandor stared at the open door in disbelief. He walked slowly out of the cell. He almost suspected a trick. Snow could claim he was trying to escape and shoot him in the back. No one would question it.

But he got closer to the door and Snow was still there by the cell. He took his hat off the peg and put it on.

“Thank you for your…hospitality, sheriff. Your wife makes good chicken.” The sheriff nodded. “I may take your advice and find me a new place. But I gotta pick up something in Tumblestone first.”

_If she’ll have me…_

 

* * *

 

 

Liza wiped down a table at the Golden Lion as the men nearby beckoned her over. Her eyes were red-rimmed but they wouldn’t care about her eyes. She pasted on a smile and approached the night’s first customers.

They were just typical drovers or miners, the sort looking for a bit of fun after getting their month’s pay. One with them was rather good-looking and more sharply dressed. He looked like a gambler. She’d take any of them over some of the less savory sort that had come in the place lately.

One of them, Meryn Trant, was interested in more than a lay and he’d leave behind more than a few dollars. He’d leave bruises on any girl he had. Fortunately, Liza had managed to avoid him and Tyrion had told him he wasn’t welcome at the Lion anymore.

These boys though…they wouldn’t mean her no harm. And she could always close her eyes and pretend.  It was what she did best. The man she wanted wasn’t ever coming back anyway. They’d hung him way over near Saltpans, she’d heard. The Hound, Sandor Clegane, the fiercest outlaw in these parts had been captured at last by Dondarrion’s men.

Liza sat down in a welcoming lap and twirled her fingers through dirty blond hair. He was still a kid.

“Why do they call you Doc? Are you a doctor?”

“No, darling,” he drawled…a Southerner. “I’m no physician but I am a magician when it comes to poker.”

Liza nearly laughed. He wasn’t enough of a magician to make her forget her outlaw but perhaps he’d help her forget her heartache just for tonight.

Just then the doors swung open and she heard one of the girls gasp. Trant had returned with three of his chums. His beady eyes scanned the room. Tyrion had already called it a night and headed home. Osney was gone. Pod was alone at the bar.

“Whiskey,” he grunted as he sat down.

The other girls were shaking like dry leaves in a branch. None of them wanted to serve him.

Liza looked at the poker player and tried to size him up. He wasn’t a big man and he was only playing cards with the other fellas. She wasn’t sure what he would do if trouble started. But he was carrying and maybe he’d come to her aid if needed.

“I’ll be right back, handsome,” she told him.

 _He just wants a whiskey. I’ll save the others the trouble_.

She went to the bar and told Pod to give her one and then walked it to the table where Trant sat with his friends.

“Here you go,” she said, intending to head directly back to the dubious safety of her poker player. Quick as a rattlesnake, Trant’s hand clamped down on her wrist painfully. “I’m entertaining someone else,” she snarled.

“Someone else can fuck off,” Trant said, grinning smugly at Doc.

She heard him push back his chair. She didn’t want no blood spilled on her account but it was mighty nice to think a man would be willing to fight for a whore like herself.

But then, she heard another voice from the doorway. Harsh and deep and gruff, a voice she knew well though she couldn’t believe she was hearing it.

“She ain’t entertaining nobody tonight…or ever again. So you can fuck off, cunt.”

“Clegane? Is that you?” one of Trant’s friends stuttered.

“That’s me,” he growled. Liza felt Trant release her wrist. “I used to be fond of this place but if this is the kind of riff-raff you serve, I’ll find me another watering hole,” he said next to Pod.

“They ain’t welcome here. Mr. Lannister told them not to come back last week.”

“Is that so?” he asked, giving all three men the stare-down as he fingered his six-shooter. “Well…maybe they ought to do as the little man says then.”

Trant was full of bluster normally but when Sandor paced over slowly with a menacing look it was more than enough to keep him from opening his mouth. His jowls were quivering and he jumped to his feet without a word. Those other two yellow-bellies with him slithered out, meek as mice, before anyone could say knife.

He turned to face her then and Liza lost herself in those eyes of his, dark as sin. Her poker player was forgotten. Her love was alive after all.

“They said you’d been hung,” she said haltingly.

“They said wrong.”

“So he’s still hunting you then?”

“Not anymore. I’m a free man,” he answered before he swept her up into his arms. She shrieked in surprised delight as he carried her to the stairs. “Tell Mr. Lannister that Miss Turner don’t work here no more,” he called over his shoulder at Pod. “She’s gonna pack her things and start a new life somewhere else.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You sure about this?” he asked. “I don’t reckon I proposed properly.”

“You mean when you carried me off in your arms without even asking my opinion on the matter?"  He nodded sheepishly.  "Well, that's alright 'cause I’m sure,” she grinned as they stood outside the Justice of the Peace’s office on Quiet Isle. She fingered the lace he’d bought her for a veil. “You sure about this though? About marrying a soiled dove, like me?”

“We both been soiled, Liza. But that’s in our past. From here on, we’ll make a new life together. You’ll stop giving away your favors for coin...”

“And you’ll stop killing men.”

“Well…I wouldn’t go that far but I'll try,” he chuckled. 

“Good enough,” she nodded as they were beckoned inside to exchange their vows.

 

An hour later, they’d taken a room at the only hotel in town and signed in as Mr. and Mrs. Clegane.

“Time to consummate this marriage, Little Bird?” Sandor asked, taking off his hat.

“You made an honest woman of me,” Liza answer as she put it on her head. She was down to her bloomers and chemise from their kisses already. “I definitely think it’s time.  Take them britches off and lie down.”

Sandor was quick to do her bidding. His cock was jutting out proudly as Liza licked her lips and removed the rest of her clothes. She was hovering over him, deliciously naked, her tits swaying with every little movement. He still couldn’t believe this was real. She grinned down at him and starting kissing him, starting at his neck and heading south. Sandor could feel Liza’s nipples brush his bare skin and began to caress her breasts, kneading them lightly. Liza moaned into his skin, sending shudders through him.

_To think I was expecting to be hung a day ago!_

Her mouth reached his cock and Sandor’s hands moved to her hair. He ran his fingers though it, pulsing with want as she pressed soft kisses to the head of his cock and ran her fingers up and down his shaft, before taking him into her mouth and swallowing him almost whole. Sandor felt his cock hit what he thought was the back of Liza’s throat and screamed her name.

“FUCK, LIZA! You’ll be the death of me, girl.”

She responded by moving her head backwards and he heard a pop as his cock left Liza’s warm mouth and met the cool air again. She didn’t stop there. She treated his cock as if it were her first meal and her last. Her first meal as a free woman maybe. Sandor knew he wouldn’t last long like this. He could feel his balls fill up and tighten, and Liza rubbing her tits up against his cock wasn’t helping matters. They looked so full and soft.

“Come here, wife,” he growled. “This ain’t a proper consummation.”

She grinned as he yanked her back up to kiss her, pulling her over him. She was soon straddling him and when she sank down to take him in, they both groaned with sweet relief.

“I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe I’m yours,” she cried.

“Believe it, Liza. I’m your man and you’re my woman.”

She began to ride him slowly, not so slow where they both lose their minds, but taking their time, savoring this new chance to just be together with no fear of interruption. His wife panted in his ear and released the softest, sexiest moans he has ever heard when she found her rhythm. He gripped her hips and kissed any patch of his wife’s skin that his lips can reach.

_My wife, my wife…mine._

He peaked then, spilling deep inside of his wife. Liza trembled on top of him, breathing heavily, with her own release. Sandor held her tight, grunting as he releases everything he has inside of her, letting out a groan when he feels Liza then practically milking him.

“Sandor,” Liza breathed when she finished shaking. “That was…”

“Not something you can buy with any coin, Little Bird. That was you and me coming together as man and wife.”

“I’m so happy,” she cried.

“Me, too. Happy and free and still worried I’m dreaming.”

“If you’re dreaming, so am I.”

They nestled down to get some sleep.

When dawn broke on the Quiet Isle, they were both overjoyed to find it was no dream and they were still free to love as much as it suited them. And someday…they might even decide to leave their room and see the rest of the place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what pairing you want to see next month, baby doll :)


End file.
